


Close Call

by Kellygirl



Category: NCIS
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-26
Updated: 2009-08-26
Packaged: 2017-10-23 17:14:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/252803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kellygirl/pseuds/Kellygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gibbs lays claim</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close Call

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to Coping Mechanism

A/N: Big thanks to [](http://slashyme.livejournal.com/profile)[**slashyme**](http://slashyme.livejournal.com/) for the beta skills.

  
Jethro ran one hand over Tony’s muscled back before he paused. The bedroom they were in wasn’t his with its expensive sheets and professionally painted walls, but he was more comfortable than he’d ever thought he could be inside it. The silence was thick with expectation as if the very air waited for them to continue.

A tiny flicker of movement from Tony and Jethro moved, pulling almost all the way out before pushing back in, the body in front of him slowly engulfing him without hesitation.

He loved watching Tony’s body. The long, lean shape was made to move; to run, duck, his muscles flexing and contracting like the most beautiful animal ever made. Jethro didn’t let him move, held him still with hands that greedily touched and smoothed skin over and over again. The television was off and the noise from outside was muted and far away.

Jethro brushed one hand lightly over the bandage that covered a small part of Tony’s left side. The stark whiteness of it as it covered the bloody groove that now rode over goose-pimpled skin made something inside him want to do damage. The incident was hours ago, but that didn’t matter. It had been just one more demonstration of the life they led.

If Jethro closed his eyes he would be able to recall the scene perfectly. The loud gun shot, the way Tony had stumbled and fell to one knee. How Ziva, eyes cool and deadly had moved faster, but was still too far away. Then, Tony playing possum before hitting their suspect twice high on the left side of his chest, the return crack of his gun just as loud.

In the dark, right now, Tony shivered and begged with his body, but Jethro moved slowly, groaning and savoring the heat, the slick glide as he pushed and pulled away, only to return again like a sailor fighting against the ocean to reach land.

The bed barely moved, the squeak of springs was barely audible as Jethro rocked in and out of Tony, not missing a single move his lover made, nor the whimpers that sounded like ’more’ and ’please.’

Jethro gripped Tony’s hips tighter as he tried to outrun the sense memory of Tony’s blood sticky and dark on his hands. The sidewalk had been filthy and Gibbs had pressed hard to stop the flow. He’d ignored Tony’s painful groan and Ziva‘s whispered demand that Tony hold on.

Minutes later, he’d been reassured by the emergency workers that it wasn’t as bad as it looked. Jethro rode in the ambulance anyway, quickly running a hand through Tony’s hair at the grateful look he’d gotten.

Tony had spent too many nights alone in an emergency room or a cold hospital bed.  
The visit had been shorter than others and then he’d taken Tony home, convinced he might want his own bed tonight.

The drive had been silent and he’d walked Tony to his door knowing he was going to stay at least for a few hours to make sure his senior agent was okay. Then Tony had given him a look that was half vulnerable and half wistful, and now they were here in bed and Gibbs knew it was a mistake but it didn’t feel like one, just like it hadn’t felt wrong to track Tony down a month ago and fuck him in that alley.

“Gibbs, boss…god.”

Jethro chuckled at the names. He was all of them to Tony and it’d never been a secret. He leaned down to lick the back of Tony’s neck. Salt, sweat, and the natural taste of Tony made him want to bite down, hold Tony still in the most primal way while he dug further into his body, making sure Tony knew he was here and nothing else would harm him tonight. He resisted barely and moved faster, the sudden urge to come making him pant and slam into Tony over and over.

In the back of Jethro’s mind he wondered if he was being too hard, but Tony didn’t yell in pain, only bent his head down further and pressed back to try and keep every inch of Jethro’s cock inside him. That trust, that lack of fear, made Jethro bite his own lip until he tasted copper.

When Jethro came it was with Tony’s name tumbling out of his mouth. A few more thrusts and he stopped moving, but let his hand continue to stroke slowly over Tony’s hard and heated flesh. The man under him squirmed and flexed, eager to reach his own climax, but Jethro kept it slow and watched Tony fall apart, a curse muttered into the air between them, as he came.

Jethro cleaned them both and vowed not to check the wound again. He’d checked it twice already. He set the clock to wake him in three hours and then he’d give in to the urge and check before giving DiNozzo his pain pills.

The sheets were cool against his skin and even though Jethro thought he’d be ending the night down in the basement with his boat, being here with Tony wasn’t so bad.

“You don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine.”

Jethro smacked Tony’s forehead and hoped he was too tired to realize his temperature was being checked.

“Go to sleep, DiNozzo.”

Tony blinked sleepily at him and smiled, something unguarded and tender that made Jethro suspect that he was deep trouble. He’d handle it because ignoring it wasn’t his way, but for tonight he’d watch over Tony and try to forget how close death had come to winning.

End


End file.
